The Dark Twin
by Lucid Obscurity
Summary: Twenty years after the purging of the Realms, Jaenelle and Daemon's children face a new challenge. Kaeleer's been sending forces into Terreille to make sure nothing of that taint remains. One of their children is sent, but has disappeared from Terreille.
1. Coping with Loss

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Anne Bishop's Black Jewel's Trilogy, including characters and worlds. 

Reia Rhiannon SaDiablo stood on the balcony at SaDiablo Hall in Kaeleer, letting the rain drench her. How could he? How could he do this to her? Of all the people she had trusted, of all the people she loved, her twin brother, Darian Azriel SaDiablo took the top spot. He was always there for her. When she had scraped her knee as a child. When she had received a scolding from her father after a particularly dangerous Craft experiment, Darian was always there, to soothe away the pain and sting of emotional wounds. Now, Darian was being escorted to Terreille, the Realm of Light. How could he _leave _her?! They _said_ it only temporary; only until Blood in Kaeleer could be completely sure that the taint spread by Dorothea SaDiablo and the Dark Priestess was completely gone. The same taint her mother had eliminated, nineteen years before. 

It wasn't like she didn't know the dreaded day was coming. Kaeleer had been sending their strongest and most gifted warriors into Terreille to destroy any chances the taint had in resurfacing, for the past twenty years. It was only a matter of time before Darian was called. As the son of Dreams made flesh, he was expected to be one of the best and brightest in Craft, not to mention full of the power and leadership his father possessed. Hell's fire, he was her twin. They both had the sun-kissed, light-brown skin and tall, muscular body inherited from their father. They both had golden hair and sapphire eyes, although hers were more summer-sky. They both had enough dark strength and psychic power to rule the realm, but not the ambition to do so. They both wore the Birthright Red. The only difference between them, besides their sex, was the fact that Darian had made the Offering to the Darkness and Reia hadn't. Now, the Ebon-gray Jewelled Warlord Prince was wandering the fouled land in Terreille, finding the remainder of the Blood and reinforcing the old ways. Reia let the rain drench her, soaking the black spider silk night-gown making it cling to her body like a second skin. Tears mingled with the rain trickling down her cheeks. He was gone and there was a chance, however slight, that he wouldn't come back. 

"Daemon," even twenty years later, the way Jaenelle said his name sounded like a sighing caress. She had aged beautifully since the purge of the Blood in Terreille. The exotic face had changed from the mask of a young woman to an older, more mature Lady, leaving her with a timeless, ageless beauty that no one could imitate. That face remained untouched by the fine lines that tended to adorn the faces of those from the short-lived races. Those ancient sapphire eyes were less haunted with the ghosts of the past, yet still retained their ancient beauty and commanding gazes. There was no masking the love in those eyes for Daemon and their children, nor would she ever try to. She sat on a couch, book in her hands, but her eyes staring blankly ahead, giving the illusion that her target of focus was the wall. 

"Sweetheart?" Daemon murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her golden hair, his Black Jewel glowing softly with the love he felt for her. 

Jaenelle giggled as her husband began placing little butterfly kisses up and down her neck, Twilight's Dawn glowing with it's soft, translucent light that hinted of all the different Jewels. She turned to face him, suddenly serious, sapphire eyes containing something she must have spent long hours thinking of how to phrase. "Daemon, I'm worried." 

"About what?" the playfulness suddenly left Daemon's beautiful face; worry and concern replaced it, soon replaced by an unreadable, blank mask. Whenever _Jaenelle _became worried, something serious or life affecting must be soon arriving, like a storm gathering over the horizon. For now, he couldn't show his worry. Not when she had obviously been anticipating his reaction. Worrying now would just cause her to stop talking and that was the last thing he wanted. 

"About Reia. She's been outside for hours, standing in the rain. This must be something to do with Darian," Jaenelle said softly. She shifted uncomfortably and laced her fingers together. 

"Sweetheart, Reia's just going to accept the fact that he has to go to Terreille. For reasons other than the obvious," Daemon said, stroking her hair. 

"But it's more than that," she insisted, fingers twisting in front of her. "Something's going to happen, I know it! Something's not right." Daemon began kneading her shoulders, trying to keep his carefully neutral mask from shattering. 

"Then we'll keep an eye on her. Nothing will happen here at the Hall. Not with Lucivar and myself here. Certainly not with _you _here either. There are a number of guard spells on the Hall. Stronger, since the fact that we are nursing a whole group of adolescent witches and warlords to power," Daemon reassured her, slender hands with long black nails still massaging her shoulders. Even with the strong male strength surrounding the Hall, he wasn't so sure it was enough to keep out whatever she was dreading. 

"Mmm, right there." Jaenelle moaned. Daemon obligingly focused on the area where her neck joined her shoulder. "I suppose... Now I know how Papa felt when the coven and boyos arrived that summer," she mused. 

Apparently he had managed to convince her that there was nothing to worry about. But as he massaged her neck, he tried to suppress a nagging thought. What had she discovered that could have made her so worried? And what kind of secrets and shadows was that vast mind hiding? 

The next morning was the most difficult Reia had to live through. The thought of spending the day without her brother and best friend made getting out of bed almost unbearable. However, it appeared her dear Uncle Lucivar had other plans. 

Squelching a grin, Lucivar snuck silently to the bed his niece currently occupied in her deceptively peaceful sleep. Not for long. Effortlessly, he picked her up and shoved her under the shower. Letting out a screech that made every hair in the whole Hall rise, Reia clawed at the faucet handle, desperately trying to shut off the torrent of icy water cascading down on her. Finally, the water ceased pounding on her. Fury blazing in the back of her summer-sky blue eyes, she whirled upon her Uncle, who seemed to be pulling many different muscles to keep from laughing. How he kept upright was besides her. 

Lucivar rapidly composed himself. "I expect you to be at the practice circle on time, not half an hour late," he said calmly. 

"Or you'll what?" Reia shrieked, water running down her hair and onto the floor. Her soaked pyjamas stuck to her, becoming a cold, dead-weight. 

Lucivar merely used Craft to turn the water back on. When Reia managed to turn the handle back the other way, Lucivar was smiling a lazy, arrogant smile; his trademark. 

"How dare you?! I am the daughter of Witch! You can't treat me that way!" Reia screamed, forgetting who she was talking to as fury blinded her. 

"Believe what you want, little-witch," Lucivar grinned. Reia couldn't help but grin back. That was the thing about her Uncle Lucivar. No matter what, he always managed to make her smile. Besides, Reia didn't expect to be treated differently from anyone else. Daughter of Witch or not, when she was late for practice, she could expect to be soaked. 

"It seems there are........ others who are late as well," Lucivar said, choking on the laugh building in his throat. "If you'll excuse me." Reia nodded as he snuck silently down the hall. No doubt one of her mother's coven had forgotten about the early morning drills. 

The muffled shout that came from the room next to her startled Reia. That was where..... No! Oh, he wouldn't! Apparently, he did. 

"Lucivar! What in the name of _Hell _are you doing?!" Daemon screamed at his brother. His voice sounded gurgled, as if he was underwater. Perhaps the sound of the shower running in the next room had something to do with it. 

"You're late," came the reply. 

"Damn you," her father's voice said angrily. 

"That went straight to my heart. If you're quiet, you can help me wake up Cat," Lucivar grinned wickedly. 

Daemon grinned just as wickedly back. "Of course, brother dear. You know how much Jaenelle appreciates cold showers." 

"Then it's settled." Silently, they snuck off to the Queen's chambers, where Jaenelle slept when she had plenty of work to do and didn't want to be disturbed. 

Reia heard a scream and several vicious curses hurled through the air as Jaenelle was shoved into the cold shower. Thank the Darkness Reia couldn't understand her mother's wide vocabulary of colourful words in several different languages. She struggled to change into some warm, dry clothes. 

Lucivar and Daemon were hurled out of the room. This did not seem to bother Lucivar too much. "Just be on the field in ten minutes, Cat." He turned on his heel to hurry back to the circle. 

Daemon just stood in the hallway naked. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing, and rushed back into his room. There was a time when it wouldn't have mattered, but his daughter was next door and he didn't want her seeing him. 

Once dressed, he poked his head into her doorway. "You didn't hear any of that, did you?" he asked his daughter. 

Reia shook her head. 

"Good. Jaenelle's always had an impressive vocabulary when it comes to Language Inappropriate for Ladies," Daemon said dryly. 

Reia's silvery, velvet-coloured laugh rang around the room. Daemon had often said that her voice was similar to her mothers. Like she had picked up how to pronounce different words from different places. Since a variety of races lived in the Hall, it was no surprise. Her father refused to tell his curious, young daughter how her mother learned the different words. 

"Better get out the practice field, witch-child. Lucivar has never been a patient man," Daemon told her. 

Reia raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of her father. "Like how he shoved you under the cold shower?" 

Daemon silently sputtered. A reply dawned on him. "Hmm. Perhaps you'd care to explain how your hair became dripping wet?" 

Reia muttered something nasty under her breath and hurried out to the practice field to drill the Eyrien sticks with her uncle. 


	2. Terreille

Holy hell, it's been a LONG time since I last updated!! I'm soo sorry about that. I just haven't been on the computer that often. I'll be back soon though, so be prepared for more updates, in less time. Anyways, here's the second chapter of The Dark Twin. 

The loss of Blood in Terreille was devastating. Over forty percent had completely disappeared. Another thirty percent had been broken back to basic Craft. The rest were still recovering from the sudden freedom. The result was many eerily empty cities that had once been thriving with people. Local residents and tourists that had swarmed through those cities were gone. All because of his mother. Witch. Dreams made flesh. The living myth. No matter how you put it, under all the titles was one name, Jaenelle Angelline. The so-called saviour of the Realms. 

Scowling, Darian Azriel SaDiablo stalked through the city of Beldon Mor. He had been sent to Terreille in search of remaining tainted Blood. How in the name of Hell could any of the taint remain, not to mention rise again? _She _had destroyed it all. Every single follower of Dorothea SaDiablo and that self-proclaimed Dark Priestess was eliminated. Killed in that tidal wave of power she released. Search for a taint? This was all just a joke. 

Besides, he was sick of everyone expecting him to become the next Daemon Sadi. Even though no one said it, it was in their eyes, in their expressions. Subtle hints were dropped. "Why can't you get this spell? Your mother could do such amazing things with Craft and you can't even pass through a solid object?" It wasn't his fault that he wasn't Witch or the Sadist. Hell's fire, why couldn't they just leave him alone? 

Another painful memory burned into his brain was the day not so long ago when he made the Offering to the Darkness. He had seen the brief flash of disappointment in his parent's eyes when he came out proudly holding an Ebon-gray Jewel. Ebon-gray! Hell's fire, that was the second darkest Jewel! Well, other than Ebony, but that was a special case granted only to his mother. But still, they had expected him to come out wearing the Black. Honestly, only two Blood males in history have ever worn the Black and they were his father and grandfather. 

Ebon-gray Jewel glowing softly, Darian approached the so-called "leader" of this ragtag group sent to this hellhole. "Rhune," he snapped. The white-haired Warlord Prince turned around, snarl blooming on his face. Glittering copper eyes raked over him angrily. Darian just stared back, sapphire eyes matching stare for stare. He knew he had nothing to fear. After all, what does an Ebon-gray Jewelled Warlord Prince have to fear from a Gray Jewelled Warlord Prince. 

"What do you want?" Rhune snapped. Although he was the leader of this little escapade, he couldn't have been older than Darian. At the most, Rhune Astarr would have had to be around nineteen to twenty. 

"To ask why the hell we're still here!" Darian snarled. "There are obviously no signs of the taint anywhere. The only things tainted here are the reasons keeping us in this dead Realm!" 

Rhune gave him a cold stare. "The reasons we are still here are the fact that the free Blood need something to support them. Something they can hold onto. Also, _Prince, _signs of the taint aren't as obvious as you believe them to be. In a few weeks, we can go home, and you can go back to your palace." 

"Something to hold onto?! The Blood can hold onto the land. It's obviously fine!" Darian barked. 

"The land is wounded. The cleansing had it's consequences as well. In doing so, the tainted land was also destroyed, making way for fresh, clean ground to grow." Rhune spoke to Darian like he would to a child. A particularly dense child. 

"Screw the land!" Darian snarled angrily. "Who cares?! Terreille will recover! You've said before that there are strong Queens here who can heal the land. Let them finish this ridiculous job!" 

"You are acting like a selfish bastard." Rhune's accusing finger stabbed into his chest. "You forget yourself! I can't believe that the son of Witch, the very woman who had sacrificed herself to save the Blood could turn out to be such a self-centred prick! The land is obviously in need of care and all you want is to go crying back to your palace! The Queen's in Terreille can heal the land, but they need time! That's exactly why we have a few strong, Dark Jewelled Queens here that came voluntarily to do what's right." Copper fire burned into his brain, leaving a blazing impression. 

"No! You forget _yourself, _Prince!" Darian sneered the word, contempt plain on his face, twisting his handsome features. "You're full of shit! Save the land..... Where will that get you? You're not a Queen! You can't feel the land! You can't save the land! I don't give a damn if you can stand to be here, _I'm _going home." With that and a swirl of his cloak, Darian stormed off into the city. Ebon-gray Jewel flaring wildly as he blasted a stray piece of rock out of his way. 

Rhune watched him leave wearily. He slowly made his way to a bench and sat down. Hell's fire, he was tired. Apart from dealing with angry Terreillian Blood, he also had to deal with this stuck up little bastard. It was obvious that Darian had lived his whole life in the lap of luxury, never having to worry about where his next meal was coming from, or who was going to pay the rent. 

Darian was likeable enough, but he could be awfully close-minded, stubborn and selfish at times. Quick to anger and violence, it was a miracle SaDiablo Hall was still standing, with someone like him as a resident. Rhune sighed. What was he going to do with him? He had no real authority over the other Warlord Prince. Darian wore the darker Jewels, even though it was only by one rank, it was enough to matter in a duel. Age? No advantage there, as a few months wasn't enough to separate them. They were both Warlord Princes, both balanced precariously on that killing edge. Darian, bordering on all out rage. Besides, Darian came from a famous family. Rhune came from a poor family, settled on the outskirts, of Scelt's capital, Tuathal. Darian only cared about two people in life. Himself was the obvious first, and his twin sister, Reia SaDiablo. 

Reia SaDiablo. That was a name he could never forget, nor would he ever want to. Long, flowing golden hair, beautiful summer sky eyes........ He had met her, once. But then, only as a humble young Warlord Prince from Scelt that was given the responsibility of leading the group into Terreille. Why? Because he was the darkest Jewel there, except for Darian, not to mention that the legendary Daemon Sadi, Darian's father, didn't want Darian leading the group. He had thought that it would go to his head. As if his ego could get any bigger.... Besides, Reia hadn't even noticed him. She was too busy laughing with her brother. 

He sighed again, raking his fingers through his short, spiky white hair. He was born with such pale hair, an oddity among the other dark-haired Scelties. Along with copper eyes, he was a most unusual child indeed. Personally, he had no idea where the copper eyes came from. His father had a deep brown, his mother a dark blue. Odd. Not to mention the fact that he wore the strongest Jewel Scelt had seen. The Gray. There was talk of a Warlord from Maghre that wore a Sapphire, but only after the Offering. Rhune had received the Sapphire as a Birthright, automatically making him the strongest out of the whole territory. Which was why he was chosen to lead this whole thing in the first place. Shaking his head, he stood up and trudged wearily off the bench. Time to find Darian and try and settle this whole thing. 

Darian stalked through the nearly empty city. Most of the population was either broken, or too shaken up to walk outside. Now that the hustle and bustle of everyday life was gone, he realized just how boring Beldon Mor really was. 

Somehow, there was something familiar about this place. Just the name, Beldon Mor reminded him of something. A distant memory, lost somewhere in the caverns of his mind. What was it about this city that could stir up some forgotten memory? 

Darian shook his head fiercely to clear it of all the spiritual clutter. This whole mission was a joke. Kaeleer was sending the strongest Blood they had to seek and destroy a non-existent taint. The only problem was, what was protecting Kaeleer? While the strongest were gone, what defense did Kaeleer have against raids? Or angry outsiders? Who would protect his family? Of course, his father and grandfather did wear the Black, and his mother was Witch, but if the rumours were true, then she no longer possessed the strength he had heard whole cities gossiping about. Besides, what did he really know about the so-called "leader" of the group? Rhune. A white haired Warlord Prince that was his own age that wore the Gray after his Offering to the Darkness. Besides the fact that he was a complete idiot and blind fool. Accepting the leadership of some joke. This was completely pathetic. A sudden noise caught his attention, drawing him towards the north-east corner of the city. Something seemed to beckon to him, calling him, leading him along the path. But there was nothing here to call, to make the subtle whisper of a psychic summon. 

A towering mansion stood over an elaborate garden. Something felt wrong about this place. But still, he wore the second darkest Jewel and had nothing to fear. Curious, he entered the garden and began to look for what had called him. 

Dusk had fallen in Beldon Mor. The tall buildings seemed eerily empty, along with the complete darkness of some areas of the great city. There was a somewhat scattered assortment of lights, from the homes of the Blood that had survived the maelstrom. 

Rhune sat, squinting in the hotel where they stayed. The lighting was bad, but the owner was so proud of his building. Rhune decided that it was nothing a little witch-light couldn't fix. Besides, where was that stubborn prick of a Warlord Prince? He was supposed to be back hours ago. Even though Darian threatened everything within sight, he would never act on those threats. So, he probably didn't leave the city to return to Kaeleer. Where was he? Downing a glass of brandy from the bottle that came with the room, Rhune temporarily forgot the fact that he wasn't supposed to be drinking. There had been enough times of having to watch his father stumble home drunker than a drowned rat to put him off the stuff forever. But then, they didn't have to worry about what Witch would say, or _do _for that matter, when he told her that her son was missing somewhere in a tainted Realm. Sweet Darkness, that little bastard better come in through that door soon. 

Reia sat on the balcony outside of her room, watching the clear, onyx sky. Stars shone brightly, twinkling in clusters scattered around the sky. She grinned at the memory of the time Darian tried to grab a star for her. Of course, getting up there had been the hard part. So, a thirteen year old Darian had climbed the high tower of SaDiablo Hall and launched himself off into the dark oblivion. It was a _very _good thing her uncle Khardeen had been taking a walk and noticed something climbing the tower. Of course, he alerted Lucivar. Lucivar had barely managed to catch Darian before he hit the stone courtyard below. They were a foot off the ground. 

Still, the house was different, now that he was gone. She didn't have someone to talk to anymore. Oh, her cousins were fun and all, but she shared a certain bond with Darian, something she knew they would never have. Sweet Darkness, how she missed him. 

A light tap on her balcony door snapped her out of her thoughts. She raised a hand and used Craft to open the door. A tall witch with short, white-blond hair, pale skin and ice blue eyes walked in. 

"Reia? I thought you might be out here," Karla said quietly. 

"Shut the-" Reia began. The door snapped shut with a bang before Reia even finished the sentence. Reia blinked, surprised, then laughed. Karla was always her favourite aunt. A sharp tongue combined with her quick wit and temper usually got her into some kind of trouble with her uncle Lucivar. Saetan once admitted that they used to call her the "little ice harpy," much to Karla's annoyance. 

Karla smiled the wickedest smile Reia had ever seen. _No one _had come even close to smiling as wickedly as that. No wonder the stories about her youth had been hilarious. "Kiss kiss," she said softly, then laughed. Reia couldn't help but join in. 

"Do you think that there is some taint remaining in Terreille?" Reia asked. 

"Hell's fire, I hope not. After all we worked for to destroy it, after all the suffering we went through the bring Jaenelle back, I hope not." Karla stared silently out into the star-filled night. 

Reia had heard about what happened to her mother that night she destroyed the taint. About how she had almost destroyed herself as a sacrifice. How her father and the kindred had fought to believe that they could still anchor the dream to the flesh. The kindred had believed to heal her. Her father, because he loved her and wanted her back. They all did. 

"Aunt Karla? What if Darian doesn't come back?" Reia couldn't help but ask the question she dreaded the most. 

"Reia," Karla sighed and raked her fingers through her spiky hair. As much as she didn't want to admit it, there was a chance, however small, that Terreille still contained some sort of danger. The major cities didn't have enough of the Blood to populate them as fully as they once were. The once crowded streets were empty. Mother Night, some of the Blood were still in hiding because they were too scared to show their faces. For _nineteen years!!! _ Hell's fire, there were some Blood that were completely terrified of anything that had to do with Kaeleer. Thank the Darkness none of them knew that Jaenelle was born in Chaillot and was adopted into Kaeleer when she was fifteen. The Darkness knows how much chaos that would cause if the terrified Terreillian Blood ever discovered that little fact. 

Karla was at a loss for words. What could she tell her nineteen year old niece? Whatever little reassurance she could offer would be consumed by the nagging doubt that he just might not come back. But then again, the chance that he wouldn't come back was small anyways. Karla said the only thing that she could think of. 

"Reia, I won't lie to you and deny that however slim, there may be some kind of trace of the taint remaining in Terreille. But I do know for a fact, that if Jaenelle, your mother, gives her consent to allow her own son to wander a realm known to be tainted, then the chance of him returning is much higher. Besides, I'm sure you're tired of hearing this, but Jaenelle _is _Witch, the living myth, and when she knows something, she's usually right." Karla gave Reia a small, reassuring smile. 

Reia didn't know what to say. She still had the doubtful feeling, but just hearing Karla speak those words seemed to somewhat dissolve the hard lump of emotion. 

"Thanks, Aunt Karla," Reia whispered. Karla acknowledged her gratitude with a sharp nod of her spiky head. 

"If you don't mind, I think I have to go make sure your uncle Khary doesn't do or say something stupid, resulting in Morghann dumping a tray over his head." Karla grinned her wicked smile and sauntered out the door, leaving Reia alone with a smile on her face. 

Reia grinned quietly to herself. According to the stories she had heard of Morghann's pregnancy, Khary had had quite a time dealing with a pregnant witch and the... other things going on at SaDiablo Hall. She laughed quietly to herself as she slipped through the balcony door and into her room.... and stifled a shriek. 

A young male Warlord Prince sat on her bed. His dark brown, curly hair set off a strong, handsome, slightly tanned face. His good-natured amethyst eyes twinkled in the dim lighting of her room. 

"Darek! What in the name of Hell are you doing in here?" Reia gasped in surprise. 

Darek smiled slightly and rose from the bed. 

"You know you're not supposed to be in here. Not now, anyways. Besides, what will Papa say if he sees you in here? He might kill you. I think-" Reia was cut off from her speech and her worries as Darek swiftly closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was savage and deep, yet gentle and passionate. 

Reia clutched his arms as he gently folded her into an embrace. "Happy I'm here?" he asked teasingly. 

"Hmm, I don't know.... I still think you should go...." Reia was thoroughly kissed again. 

"How about now?" Darek asked, a light shining in his eyes as he softly stroked her hair. 

"Well, I think you've changed my mind about a few things. I think I need the company," Reia admitted, slightly breathless into his shoulder. 

"Really? Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?" Darek asked, concerned. His Green Jewel shone softly in the light, filled with his concern for her. 

"No. Not unless you can go to Terreille and find Darian," Reia said softly, burying her face into his shirt. "I just want him back. I can feel something happening in there. Not quite the taint, but not normal. I just wish I knew what was going on." 

"Don't worry too much, Reia. There's nothing you can do." As soon as he said those words, Darek instantly regretted them. She spun away from his embrace and snapped her head up to look into his eyes. The anger that burned in her summer-sky blue eyes captured his and held the gaze, burning into his soul. 

"I am very well aware of that, Prince Darek," Reia said coldly, her voice hard. "I do not need a male to point that out to me every time I mention my brother or the feeling I have been getting. If I want your opinion, I will ask for it." 

Darrek's mind kept up a steady stream of curses and insults directed at himself. He knew that that was the wrong thing to say. So why did he say it? It was hard enough to talk to Reia. She was beautiful. And she came from a powerful family, not to mention the fact that she was a Red Jewelled Queen and Healer. What more could anyone want from a witch? 

"I'm sorry Reia. It's hard for me too. I miss Darian as well, but he will be fine. An Ebon-gray Jewelled Warlord Prince doesn't have anything to worry about." 

Reia nodded slowly. "Darek...... It's just that there's been a lot on my mind. There's nothing I can do and I hate that. Can we just forget about that for now?" 

"Of course. Anything for you." Sweet Darkness, she made his head spin. Sweet one minute, icy the next. But she was beautiful. 

"Come here," Darek said softly. Reia slowly walked towards him. He sat her on the bed and began to massage her neck. 

"I hope this will help you to relax. You're too tight," Darek murmured as his fingers slowly soothed away the stress of a long day practising the art of Eyrien sticks with her drill sergeant uncle Lucivar. 

A sudden knock on the door startled both of them to make them jump. "Reia?" Jaenelle's voice asked through the door. 

Reia barely had time to think when the door swung open. "Hello Darek," Jaenelle said quietly. "I think Khardeen's looking for you. He claims that you may have been involved with an "accident" involving witch light, a statue and a bush." Darek's normally tanned face paled visibly. "I suggest you go quickly and not keep your father waiting." 

Darek scrambled hurriedly out the door, a noticeably worried expression on his face. Jaenelle chuckled quietly. "I don't know what Khardeen's going to do now," Jaenelle said to Reia grinning. "You know, when Morghann was pregnant, Khary was always going on about how great it would be to have a boy. Especially a strong boy, like Darek. Unfortunately, I think Khary forgot about what his dear uncle went through with him and Morghann." 

Reia laughed. She always loved to hear stories about her mother's past. Especially those involving the years she lived in the Black Mountain, Ebon Askavi. 

"I just came in to tell you that I felt it too," Jaenelle said quietly, her sapphire eyes taking on a timeless look. "Tell me if you find that you have any odd visions or dreams. I need to know. Goodnight Reia." She bent down and kissed Reia's forehead lightly, then swept out the door; leaving a very confused daughter to try and decipher the meaning of the cryptic message she had left her but dreading the outcome. 

Reia sat in the dark for a while after her mother had visited her. What did that mean? Dreams? Visions? Hell's fire, she wasn't a Black Widow. She didn't have visions. She didn't know how to weave a tangled web. It was all a foreign concept to her. But Jaenelle knew something. Her mother knew something and wasn't telling her. But then again, that meant that Witch had an idea about what was going on and Witch was the final word on everything. If she felt something wrong in Terreille...... 

"Darian," Reia whispered into her pillow, a solitary tear trickling down her face. 


End file.
